


The Angel of Thursday & Temperance

by Jules2020 (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Castiel is a Winchester (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Jack Kline is a Winchester, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Mutual Pining, Newly Human Castiel (Supernatural), References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, The Empty (Supernatural), Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Jules2020
Summary: Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Jack suffer the consequences of fighting the Almighty God.Castiel sacrificing his grace.Sam and Dean losing faith.Jack weakening his powers.Are Sam, Dean, Jack, and the help of unlikely allies able to help Castiel prevent Lucifer and the Empty from capturing and torturing him forever?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	The Angel of Thursday & Temperance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, trying his best to keep him--them both, possibly--from crumbling to a million, sharp pieces on the blood stained grass. They've both been through enough as it is; Castiel nor Dean can live without the other, whether they tried or not. Trying with all their will and strength would just tear them apart, piece by piece, limb by limb.
> 
> Isn't it lovely, all alone?  
> Heart made of glass, my mind of stone  
> Tear me to pieces, skin to bone  
> Hello, welcome home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! This is my first fanfic of Supernatural. This particular story takes place after TFW 2.0 fight Chuck 'God' which is mainly focused on the angel's perspective. Titles of Billie Eilish's songs and their lyrics will be used for all chapters of this story. Anyways, I hope that if anyone reads this enjoys what I came up with! If you have any comments or suggestions, please feel free to let me know!
> 
> These chapters may have to be updated weekly or maybe longer. I have other things I'm focusing on that will interfere with this series. 
> 
> Thank you for understanding. I truly hope that whomever reads this work, enjoys it as much as me. I'm putting my heart and soul into my interpretation of what would happen to the boys after the finale. 
> 
> ❤🧡💛💚💙💜

**Isn't it** **Lovely?**

* * *

-~-+-~-

Sacrificing his almighty grace to save the Righteous Man is something Castiel will never regret; he'd do it again in the fraction of a heartbeat or a blink of an eye. The Wrathful God that was Chuck impaled Dean Winchester with my angel blade that was neglected during the fight from being struck out of my bloodied hand. Protecting the younger Winchester from God's wrath, Dean flung himself in front of Sam, taking the blade through his heart. 

_Thought I found a way_   
_Thought I found a way, yeah_   
_But you never go away_   
_So I guess I gotta stay now_

"No!" Sam collapsed next to his older brother, lines of tears falling down his face; clutching his leather jacket, he begged him to stay on this dreadful Earth. 

Jack using all of his nephilim power, smote Chuck for the final blow, fury caused by watching one of his father figures descend to the ichor covered ground, clenching at the blade and yanking it out; Cas glided over to Dean's side, depositing his hands over his heart, failing at ceasing his blood loss.

His surrogate son collapsed on the ground after defeating Chuck for good, his power and grace needing to be recharged in order to do more. Castiel, unable to bear Dean's inevitable death, he did the only thing he thought he could do; sacrifice his grace for the Righteous Man.

Placing his right palm atop the hunter's head and his left palm atop his heart, he began extracting his grace and transferring it to the human. Dark blue eyes and tanned hands glowed a blinding blue and gold, saving his fearless, suicidal hunter, whether he wanted or didn't deserve to be saved or not.

_Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here_   
_Even if it takes all night or a hundred years_   
_Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near_   
_Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear_

Grace revitalizing his health, Dean sprung back to life, breathing in harsh rushes of air to fill his lungs. Cas brought his bloody hands back and rested them on his blood-covered thighs. Dean slowly calmed down, words flying out of his mouth like birds flying into tar. 

"Cas... h-he... uh... saved you." Dean stared into his brother's hazel eyes with concern, fear and anger coating his face and eyes; those eyes could tell a thousand--hell, a million--stories, couldn't they? When Dean found Cas's eyes and locked his gaze with him, he looked pissed more than anything. 

"Cas, what the hell! Why would you do that?" _Because you're important to me. Because I love you. I"m in lo-_

"I did it because I care about you. I told you that you Winchesters mean everything to this world... to me," sadness gleamed in those emerald eyes. "I promised I wouldn't let another Winchester die when I'm around. So you can be pissed all you want... but I don't regret what I did, even if it costs my life." Sadness streamed from his green eyes down his freckled face, landing on his leather jacket. 

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, trying his best to keep him--them both, possibly--from crumbling to a million, sharp pieces on the blood stained grass. They've both been through enough as it is; Castiel nor Dean can live without the other, whether they tried or not. Trying with all their will and strength would just tear them apart, piece by piece, limb by limb.

_Isn't it lovely, all alone?_   
_Heart made of glass, my mind of stone_   
_Tear me to pieces, skin to bone_   
_Hello, welcome home_

Dean and Jack had to be dragged to the backseat by Sam and newly human Castiel. Mainly because Dean kept protesting about Cas' decision and was still recovering. The drive home was deathly quiet, though; the only sounds Cas could pick up were their muffled breathing and the humming of Baby's engine. Sam neglected pressing for more answers on why Cas did what he did; either what Cas said was enough or he knows how Cas really feels for the hunter. Either way, Castiel wouldn't mind drowning in silence for once. . . especially after hearing the hunter's grotesque cries of agony. . . so he positioned his tousled head on the passenger door, leaned on the window and stared at the millions of stars in the night sky, glinting like diamonds.

The impala was pulled in front of the bunker's entrance, on the gravel road instead of the garage. Sam helped Jack out of the car since he was on the driver's side, and Cas helped Dean--or tried to anyways.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel trudged down the squeaky hunter green stairs, scarlet liquid covering them head to toe. "Hey, I'm gonna put Jack down for tonight and take a shower." Sam smiled at our direction, holding Jack carefully with two arms. Dean and Cas started towards the bunker's kitchen and sat at the old wooden table in the far corner. They were both perched on opposite benches, soaking in the peaceful silence. Castiel remembered that Sam had stocked some stress relieve tea in one cabinet, because of course he did. 

"I'm gonna brew some tea, you want any?" Who knew humans could carry around so much stress all the time.

"Can you make some coffee instead? Or maybe get some beer?" Cas thinks it's way too late to have any beer while exhausted and covered in blood and certainly way too late for some damn pitch black coffee.

_Walking out of town  
Looking for a better place (looking for a better place)  
Something's on my mind  
Always in my headspace_

"Of course." Cas made his way over to the coffee pot and found Dean's favorite grind, spooning four tablespoons in a cone filter then placed it in the brewer; he grabbed two mugs from the cabinet above, Dean's with a 'You want a piece of me?' slapped on with a pie in the center appearing angry and Castiel's with a 'Bee happy!' slapped on with honey bees flying around the quote appearing content. _If only._

The coffee finished pouring in the pot and Castiel filled both cups with generous amounts. Setting both cups of divine goodness on the wooden table, he slid Dean's over to him and sat with a heavy thud. Dean grabbed the handle and sipped quietly, not voicing a word. 

"I did what I had to do, Dean. I would do it again if needed."

"I know. . . it doesn't mean I agree with your idiotic choice of action, though." he vocalized after moments of silently drinking his coffee.

"Your safety is more important to me than mine! Angel or not, I will not stop protecting you!"

"Well maybe you should! I'm the least of your worries now, start thinking about yourself for once. Especially since you wasted your grace on me."

"I did not--" Before Castiel could finish his statement, Dean sipped the remains of his coffee, stood up, and left with a pensive look plastered on his face and tense shoulders. Instead of wearing his accustomed mask of anger, he appeared tired and upset. 

_But I know someday I'll make it out of here  
Even if it takes all night or a hundred years  
Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near  
Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear_

With the absence of his grace humming in his vessel, he needed a hands on shower instead with fresh clothes afterwards. Castiel would question Dean for some but he didn't want to bother him anymore that night. . . so he searched for Sam. Walking towards his bedroom door, Cas spotted Sam wearing fresh, clean, less blood stained, clothing; sitting at the headboard, back on a pillow, legs stretched across the neatly made bed, reading a book. The hunter seemed better even with crimson scratches and violet bruises peppering his light bronze skin.

"Sam?" Called Cas, knocking twice, peering through the opening of his door.

"Yeah?" He said, glancing up from his book in hands. "Oh, hey! What's up, Cas?"

"Um. . . do you have any um. . . spare clothes I could borrow?"

"Yeah, of course." Bookmarking his spot and setting the book down, he stood up and paced over to his dresser, fetching clothes for Cas. With various amounts of plaid in hand, he came towards the door, holding them out to Cas. "Here you go, buddy." 

"Um, thanks, Sam." Hesitantly reaching out to the clothes, Cas began ambling away, until he felt Sam grasping his shoulder. 

"Don't worry about Dean, Cas. He just needs space and time to cope with what happened."

"I know." Cas stated in his deep, gravelly voice and walked off to the nearest bathroom.

The bathroom was compact; a tiny shower in one corner and a miniscule sink with a mirror in the other. At least the essentials were provided and tucked away. 

_I_ _sn't it lovely, all alone?_   
_Heart made of glass, my mind of stone_   
_Tear me to pieces, skin and bone_   
_Hello, welcome home_

A cold sensation spiked the bottom of his bare feet when shucking off his battered trench coat, torn apart suit and ripped up tie, but sensing warm water felt better, cleansing his vessel's skin of blood and dirt, though it hurtled daggers in unidentified cuts and scratches. After a half hour of immaculate scrubbing, he felt freshly recovered, minus the wounds. Throwing on plaid pj's and a plain black t-shirt, he then snatched his previous wardrobe and tossed them in the washer. Cas observed the circling cycle for a minute then vacated the room, going to bed, waiting for the next day.

-~-+-~-

* * *

**Hello, welcome home**


End file.
